


Road Trip

by mysterytour



Category: Logan - Fandom, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Logan (2017), Logan of all timelines, Mutant Road Trip, Post X-Men: 2, Retconning The Last Stand harder than Bryan Singer, Road Trips, Stephen Merchant's Bristolian accent, Time Travel, Time travellin' Logan, Timey-Wimey, flip phones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-07 01:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytour/pseuds/mysterytour
Summary: A timey-wimey road trip fic in which Logan, Kurt and Caliban become friends.





	1. 2004

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for:  
> Logan  
> X-Men  
> X-Men 2

_‘Logan.’_

 

_The voice belongs to Professor Xavier. The realisation stirs Logan from a twilight state comparable to the edge of sleep. Of consciousness without thought. He finds himself floating without form in a sea of light. This place, if indeed it is a place, feels timeless; perhaps he has been drifting like this for thousands of years. Perhaps seconds._

 

_Logan feels the Professor’s mind probing his own._

 

_‘I have seen your timelines... so much pain… so many unhappy endings.’ The rhythm of the Professor’s speech (or thought) is languid and soothing. Logan tries to ignore the content._

 

_‘Yours wasn’t so great, either.’ He replies. He tries to return to the prior state and rest again, but now he is alert and his mind refuses to obey._

 

_‘You deserve a peaceful life, Logan. A second chance.’_

 

_‘I’m already at peace, Charles. Go away.’_

 

_The light begins to die._

 

_‘Put an end to Stryker’s legacy. But this time, don’t try to do it alone.’_

 

_The light is fading fast, now. Logan scrambles. He has no desire to leave._

 

_‘What about the girl?’_

 

_‘I give you a fresh timeline. Laura has her own path.’ The Professor’s voice becomes increasingly distant, ‘Stop Alkali-Transigen. And when the time comes… you must stop me.’_

 

Logan woke suddenly, heart hammering and senses alive as if a bomb had gone off in his head. He flexed his hands, and felt the familiar click of adamantium between his bones. He remembered it all as if it had happened only moments ago – perhaps it had: the forest, Laura, dying violently. Painfully. Logan probed his chest with his fingers. No wounds. Not even scars. He thought about the light and Professor Xavier’s voice; the memory was already beginning to fade. He looked around and found himself lying in bed in a cheap hotel room. The curtains were closed. A pair of jeans – his jeans – had been left in a heap on the desk. Logan got out of bed and went through the pockets: a screwed up napkin, car keys and a flip cell phone. He remembered this phone, but hadn’t thought about it in decades. He opened it up and keyed in the password that he always used. The date on the screen read:

 

May 16, 2004.

 

Logan frowned. He had had a strange life and an even stranger death, but he would never get used to time travel. He scrolled through the contacts:

 

Jean

Laser boy

Rogue

Prof X

Storm

 

Feeling a pang of shame, he changed ‘Laserboy’ to ‘Cyclops’. Of course, everyone was alive, but it still felt like disrespecting the dead. Logan scrolled up and down the list until he settled on Storm. ‘Storm. It’s me.’ He said, when she answered.

 

‘Logan.’ Ororo replied. She sounded surprised. They probably hadn’t spoken since Alkali Lake. ‘How are you?’

 

‘I’m good.’ Logan started walking around the room, briefly stopping to peer out of the curtains. The cars in the parking lot all looked so _old fashioned_. ‘How are things at the mansion?’

 

‘They’re good. Marie is doing really well. I’m sure she’d like to see you.’

 

‘Yeah.’ Logan glanced at the menu on the bedside table; the hotel’s address was stamped at the bottom. It was only a couple of hours drive from New York.

 

‘I’ve been thinking about Jean a lot.’ She continued, ‘And what Stryker did to his son.’

 

 _He was back in his original timeline!_ ‘Stryker got what he deserved.’

 

‘I know.’ Ororo’s voice cracked a little. ‘So what have you been doing?’

 

It occurred to Logan that he had no recollection of what he’d done in 2004 or why he was in this motel. ‘Oh, just…work. And you?’

 

‘Work. But tonight I’m going to the theatre with Kurt.’

 

‘The blue guy? Right.’ Logan had an idea, ‘I’ve got some business to attend to and I could use some help, actually.’

 

‘From the X-Men?’

 

‘It’s more of a two person job. I could use a teleporter.’

 

‘When does it start?’

 

‘Today.’

 

‘Okay.’ Ororo sounded disappointed, ‘You know, he might not agree to this.’

 

‘Sorry. I just need to get it over and done with as soon as.’

 

‘I understand. Shall I text you his number?’

 

‘Thanks. Is he at the mansion?’

 

‘Not tonight. I’ll send you the address of his hotel.’

 

‘Thanks.’

 

‘Look after yourself. And Kurt.’

 

‘I will.’ Logan hung up and started getting dressed. He wondered which of the cars in the parking lot was the one that belonged to him.

 

 

Logan parked outside the hotel and got his cell phone out. Texting on the number was ridiculously laborious and he wondered how long it would be until he could get a smart phone:

 

_4x4 outside. I’ve got a job. Bring your shit – Logan._

 

The response came quickly: _Busy. Sorry!_

 

 _Not asking._ He put the phone back in his pocket and waited. A few minutes later Kurt appeared on the sidewalk with his suitcase, a reluctant expression on his face. Logan wound the window down; ‘Get in.’ he said, brusquely.

 

‘I…I can’t,’ Kurt said, plaintively, ‘I’m meeting Ororo in an hour.’

 

Logan rolled his eyes and checked the mirror impatiently. ‘Haven’t you spoken to her?’

 

‘Yes, but she has already booked the tickets. We’re going to see _Wicked_.’

 

‘She can go with someone else, can’t she? Cyclops seems like a... theatre kind of guy.’

 

‘I suppose...’

 

‘Now get your blue ass in the car.’

 

Kurt looked around and smiled nervously at a man who was staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost, ‘I’m sorry Logan, but the flights costed a lot of money and I want to see Ororo, not join the X-Men.’

 

‘I’m not in the X-Men so this isn’t an X-Men job. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’

 

‘How important, exactly?’

 

‘The whole damn future is at stake.’

 

‘Are you serious?’

 

‘Absolutely. I’ll explain on the road.’

 

‘Alright. Alright then.’ Kurt said. He threw his suitcase in the trunk and got in the front seat.

 

Logan pulled away from the sidewalk and started driving. The traffic was terrible and at the first set of traffic lights he hit a long queue. He hated driving in New York.

 

‘How long will it take?’ Kurt asked.

 

‘A couple of weeks, tops.’

 

‘Oh.’

 

‘When we’re done I’ll drop you back at the mansion, and you and Storm can go see...whatever.’

 

‘Okay. So what’s the plan?’

 

‘There’s a facility south of the Mexican border,’ Logan told him, ‘they’re holding genetic samples from mutants – including me - they’re going to use them to make an army of super soldiers.’

 

‘That’s ungodly!’

 

Logan continued, ‘They’re also developing a drug that suppresses the X gene. In a year or two it’s going into food, water. There won’t be any more people like us, unless we nuke the whole damn place.’

 

‘This is terrible. I will certainly help you,’ Kurt decided, ‘but I don’t want to hurt anybody.’

 

The sun was getting high in the sky. Logan tried to turn on the air conditioning but of course it didn’t work. ‘You won’t have to; I’ll do all the hurting.’

 

‘Would it not be possible to avoid violence all together?’

 

‘I know it’s not your style but... if we can locate exactly where the samples are being stored… maybe it’ll be easier to avoid.’

 

‘How do we do that?’

 

‘I don’t -’ Logan stopped. He did know how. Or rather, _who_.


	2. Chapter 2

By shear force of good luck it turned out that Caliban was living at the same address in Washington that he had been living at when Logan had first made his acquaintance in 2017. Caliban wasn’t home, but his landlord - a middle-aged woman with a New Jersey accent - was; she didn’t seem surprised to have a couple of mutants turn up on her doorstep looking for her tenant, and offered up his current location without prompting. He’d was at downtown Irish bar, which he frequented most Friday nights.

Logan booked a hotel near the bar and they got straight down to business. As soon as they got through the door people started staring and whispering to each other. Of course they did. Kurt looked sheepish and stuck his hands in his pockets. Logan was glad that social media wasn’t around yet; they’d have been found out by Alkali-Transigen long before they got to the Mexican border. Providing no one tried to bother them, all this attention wouldn’t matter at all. Not yet, at least.

Caliban’s face was obscured by a scarf and a pair of large, dark sunglasses that made him look ridiculous. He was also wearing an equally ridiculous trench coat. He sat at a small table near the restrooms and was staring straight at them.

‘That’s him.’ Logan murmured, nodding towards Caliban.

‘Should we go and talk to him?’ Kurt asked.

‘No. He’ll come to us.’

They seated themselves near the back of the room and waited. Logan was barely halfway through his first drink before Caliban slunk towards them, pulled up a chair from an adjacent table and sat himself down. ‘Hello, lads.’ He said brightly, ‘Hope you don’t mind if I…’ Caliban pushed the glasses down his nose glanced from Logan to Kurt, ‘Where have I seen you before?’

‘Me?’ Kurt said, nervously.

‘Are you in the circus by any chance?’

Kurt lit up immediately, ‘Yes! My name is Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich Circus I am known as…’

‘…The Incredible Nightcrawler! Oh my God this is so weird! I saw you in - in Bristol!’

‘That was years ago – I can’t believe you remember me!’

‘Mate, you’re blue!’ Caliban was now grinning broadly. Logan glanced around, concerned that the volume of the conversation was drawing even more attention. It was. ‘My name’s Caliban, by the way. It’s so great to meet another mutant who can’t pass. Under all this I’m weird as fuck. But you…’ He nodded to Logan, ‘Most people would have no idea what you are. What do you do?’

‘I heal.’ Logan said, simply, ‘You?’

‘I can smell other mutants from like miles away. You smell like pinecones. And you,’ Caliban gestured to Kurt, ‘you smell like a bloody daffodil.’

‘Thank you.’ Kurt said, ‘Do most people smell like plants?’

‘Yeah. Although one guy I know smells like dog shit.’

‘How strange!’

‘Not as strange as being able to _Star Trek_ yourself from place to place! I’m going to the bar. What’re you having?’

‘Rum and Cola, if that’s alright.’

‘Good choice. The beer in this country is shocking. What about you, Logan?’

‘Beer is good enough for me.’

Caliban got up, briefly getting his feet tangled up in the chair legs, and went to the bar.

‘I think he will help us.’ Kurt said, hopefully.

‘He sure as hell will.’ Logan agreed.

Caliban came back with the drinks,

Logan drank his beer and watched the pair hit it off. It was uncanny that the man with whom he had lived for several years was now a stranger. Unreal. He had never respected Caliban, certainly not liked him: he was a coward and a traitor after all, but in the end he had blown himself up for Logan. Perhaps Caliban deserved a second chance, too.

Kurt and Caliban kept buying rounds of drinks and the three of them got progressively more and more drunk. Eventually the people who had been staring lost interest and went back to their own conversations. Logan learned more about Caliban over the course of that evening than he ever had in the time that they’d lived together; he was surprised by how readily Caliban offered up information about himself. His real name, for starters, which was Dave. He’d grown up on Tewkesbury Road in an English town called Bristol. As a teenager he’d started dealing drugs: first weed, then cocaine, then meth, and that was when his father (who worked in a corner shop and shouted when he got drunk) finally kicked him out. Of course, there was no mention of how he’d capitalised on his mutant abilities.

And Kurt was delighted to tell Caliban all about his own life in return. Every time he mentioned performing his voice got louder and his gestures got bigger. He’d been raised in the circus by his adopted mother and could swing on a trapeze before he had even learned to walk. He could also jump into the splits and was inordinately proud of it. Then he decided to do a live demonstration, and everyone started staring again. This time Kurt didn’t look nervous when he noticed the stares. He looked pleased. Logan was impressed but decided to look unimpressed instead. Kurt stopped doing tricks and sat back down.

‘How about we go somewhere else? I could use a change of scenery.’ Logan said, when he had decided that Caliban had let his guard down sufficiently.

As soon as they got outside Logan grabbed him by the arm and started dragged him into a side road. Dismayed, Kurt followed at his heel.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Caliban cried.

‘That was really cute, in there.’ Logan hissed, ‘I know what you do to people like us.’

A moment of realisation passed over Caliban’s face. ‘Whatever you’ve heard it’s not…‘

‘You’re a God damn traitor!’ Logan yanked the scarf away, exposing Caliban’s face. As soon as light from the street-lights touched his face he started screaming.

‘Logan - please!’ Kurt begged.

Logan ignored him. ‘You’d screw me or your new pal here if someone offered you enough money!’ He threw Caliban against a shop front and let him cower.

‘Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ Caliban howled, scrambling to cover his face.

‘Bullshit!’

‘I don’t do it anymore!’

‘Because no one’s buying!’

‘What do you want?’

‘You can sniff out mutant tissue, right? Even if it’s a small amount?’

‘Yeah.’ Caliban said, calming down a little.

‘The way I see it – you owe every goddamn mutant on the planet. You’re going to work for me.’

‘Okay. Whatever you want!’

Logan grabbed Caliban by the back of the collar and started dragged him in the direction of the hotel.

‘Stop dragging him – please!’ Kurt said.

‘You take him, then.’ Logan pushed Caliban into Kurt and kept walking.

‘Sorry about this.’ Kurt said, steadying Caliban on his feet.

‘Thanks.’ Caliban said, gratefully. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing with this nutter.’

‘We have important work – to all mutantkind.’ Kurt tried to explain, gently holding Caliban’s elbow, ‘I’m very sorry about the violence, he is, uh…’

‘An asshole.’ Logan said, and he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the fun I am having writing Caliban's voice!


End file.
